


Impact Velocity

by Coalmine301



Series: Whumptober 2020 [27]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Episode: s02e05 Landing at Point Rain, Gen, Shot down, internal injuries, waiting for rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: Guess it didn’t matter if the zone was hot or not. They would be going down either way.With each passing second Geonosis’s sandy face grew closer and closer. Like a nexu rapidly gaining on a wounded lothrat. There was no question as to what the outcome would be.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Trapper
Series: Whumptober 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908538
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Impact Velocity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whumptober prompt "Internal Injury"

The plan had made sense a few hours ago.

On all sides was nothing but pure, unbridled chaos. Gunships burst into explosions of metal and flame as Geonosian artillery filled the air. Clone voices scream out only to be abruptly silenced.

His comm link suddenly lit up with an inaudible chirp. Cody’s voice is almost completely buried in the din just outside the gunship’s walls. “General Kenobi, don’t land. The zone is hot!” 

“But there’s nowhere else to go,” he shouted back.

Almost immediately their transport jolted as something slammed into its rear. If the plumes of smoke weren’t enough indication, a frantic alarm from the cockpit was all Obi-wan needed to know they were going down.

Guess it didn’t matter if the zone was hot or not. They would be going down either way.

With each passing second Geonosis’s sandy face grew closer and closer. Like a nexu rapidly gaining on a wounded lothrat. There was no question as to what the outcome would be.

“Brace yourselves!” He might have yelled. 

And then impact finally came. The gunship slammed brutally against the ground, no doubt leaving a deep groove in its wake. All of a sudden it flipped, tumbling over and over seemingly endlessly before at last falling still. 

Obi-wan slowly awoke to the pain in his bones and the smell of smoke heavy in the air. There was something pressed on top of him, solid and uncompromising. 

Hesitantly he cracked open an eye. The darkened inside of the gunship greeted him, the craft having been tipped over on its side. And if he listened real hard he could just barely hear the sounds of battle outside.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his comlink still strapped onto his wrist. His wrist laying three feet away from where his arm ended, crimson staining the durasteel floor. 

He knows he should probably go get it, but he can barely muster up the energy to stay awake. Let alone move. Unconscious lurks at the edge of his awareness, like a spider patiently watching a fly caught in its web. 

He tries valiantly to fight it off, but its pull is just too seductive. Surely it would be alright if he closed his eyes for a few seconds.

The second time Obi-wan awakes it with much more clarity. The pain in his side had only intensified since he was last awake. His surroundings remained the same as they had been before. 

Now, about that weight on his chest… Obi-wan glances to the side, only to suddenly stare into an unblinking amber eye. 

He jolts instinctively, staring into the trooper’s lifeless gaze. The clone’s visor had shattered in the crash, the glass broken and jagged.

Carefully, Obi-wan pushes the corpse off of him. It takes more force than he was expecting with his weakened arms but he somehow manages. Unconscious once more hovered at the edge of his mind. This time he doesn't fight it.

Obi-wan wakes for the third time with a harsh cough. 

“Hey!” A voice suddenly rasps out. “You alive, vod?” Obi-wan tried to respond, only to hack out a cough. “Who’s there?”

“Kenobi,” Obi-wan croaks out.

“General!”

“That’s me,” he replied coarsely. Apparently, his humor had somehow survived the landing even though most of him hadn’t. 

Come to think of it… he poked experimentally at his side, only for it to explode in fiery agony. Yep, not doing that again.

“How are you, sir?” The clone asked again.

“Eh, I’ve had worse hangovers,” the redhead quipped. He already knew the answer to that question, but he wasn’t keen on saying it aloud. 

Cautiously, he reached out into the Force. Aside from the one speaking, Trapper if he was correct, several other clones lay alive yet unconscious. They toed the line between life and death, constantly in danger of falling to one side or the other.

Obi-wan reached farther, focusing his attention on a different part of this bug-infested dustball. His former padawan’s signature glowed brilliantly, as familiar as his own. Though every time he reached for it the Force simply slipped out of his grasp.

“Do you think the others are looking for us?” Trapper suddenly asked. 

“I think so,” Obi-wan mused in response. “The Commander's probably wondering where we’ve been. It’s after curfew!”

Trapper let out a soft chuckle and Obi-wan joined in, only to be interrupted by a coughing fit. Crimson droplets lined his palm when he pulled his hand away.

For a long moment silence filled the downed gunship. Its two survivors simply sat there and tried to breathe. Tried not to think about the ominous shadow of death looming over them with every exhale.

“Sir?” Trapper suddenly spoke up, voice trembling.

“Hmm?” Obi-wan had steadily been nodding off, only woken by the clone’s voice.

“Do you think we’re going to make it out of here?”

Obi-wan hesitated. “I don’t know.” They had no way of getting out or alerting allies to their predicament. All they could do was pray for help while desperately fighting to stay alive. 

They both knew it was a losing battle. 

“I’m scared,” Trapper admitted. 

“It’s ok,” the redhead replied. “I am too.”

* * *

Together, Boil and Waxer pried open the gunship’s crumpled doors. Amber eyes scanned the dark interior, searching for survivors.

All they found were corpses.


End file.
